


Of Norns and Sirens

by Rynfinity



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Blood, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 12:43:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4787654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rynfinity/pseuds/Rynfinity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It lies somewhere between pure coincidence and inescapable fate that he might ultimately find himself visiting one of the pools at the same time as his not-brother.  This time, Loki hopes, he will encounter Thor.</p><p>~</p><p> <i>This is my foray into the deleted scenes cave business.  Because... me... it gets a little weird.  And, of course, there is more angst than pr0n.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Norns and Sirens

_The Water of Sight_ , the pool - _pools_ , more accurately; the mortal storytellers of yore were neither wiser nor more resourceful than those of modern times - is called. In Midgardian mythology, which Loki has studied more and more closely since that misunderstanding about Sivadalfari (in truth, which is a luxury he seldom allows himself, he yet hopes to find similarly damning "evidence" about his brother; to date his very specific quest has borne a disappointingly small amount of fruit), such a pool is said to exist only in the Realm Eternal. It lies, the myths claim – and that much is true - close by the trunk of Yggdrasil.

It is the mouthpiece of the Norns.

Recently, Loki has watched from the tree as Thor has tried in vain to convince the brighter (or more suggestible) of his Midgardian companions that the pool is not one but several in number. In nature. _Mirrors_ , Loki has oft heard his brother term them. Whether this is oversimplification (Thor panders to the mortals and considers them largely incapable of higher learning, behavior which has long been regarded as protective and even sweet; when Loki does the same, he is termed judgmental and condescending. There is some subtle difference between them that blinds all who might otherwise see, and Loki hates it with a bitter passion) or deception (in the interest of avoiding widespread panic), Loki is not certain.

From the standpoint of accuracy, _portals_ would be a far better term.

Because the dark, murky pools are exactly that: a way for the Norns to both watch the other realms and visit them with minimal fuss and maximum ease. And these portal-pools are not just nine in number... they exist in many dark corners of the universe, well outside the borders of those friendly realms the citizenry of the nine call home.

This part, too, is not myth. Rather, it is something Loki has learned from firsthand experience. Alongside it he has learned that trips through these particular passageways exact far more than two gold coins. The Greek ferryman is- nicer, evidently. Still, over time Loki has determined that any such trip is invariably well worth the asking price.

Loki has learned many things.

For example, he has also found - firsthand, the hard way, and not here - that any entry is also an exit... and vice versa. And while his own seidr is powerful, perhaps unequaled on Asgard herself, there are those in the universe at large whose powers grossly dwarf his own. Anywhere he can go, they can too. And they may not mean him particularly well on arrival.

Thus, he has taken to - wherever he may be at any given point in time, which just now happens to mean _on a godsforsaken rock far beyond the edges of the known_ \- watching the closest pool with focused intensity. Sure, the Norns guard the pools as well; the passageways are theirs, after all. But Loki is quite certain the Norns' purposes align poorly with his own.

Recently, speaking of purposes, he has found himself pulled to the pool with increasing frequency. They all are. None can resist the drumbeat pull of the end of time.

Thus, it lies somewhere between pure coincidence and inescapable fate that he might ultimately find himself visiting one of the pools at the same time as his not-brother. That they might be in different realms, but on convergent paths. It does happen. Has happened. Just as often, though, their paths swing apart. In and out they go, warp and weft, for all eternity. Still, this time Loki hopes he will encounter Thor.

He steps into the mouth of the cave.

~

Away from the pool the place is dark, a velvety black so absolute that it is simply not possible to discern whether his eyes are closed or open. Not without putting his fingers in them, at least, which is something he learned to avoid early on in the course of his travels. But it truly is dark, and silent save for the faint, tinkling echo of droplet after droplet as each falls from the cave’s ceiling and strikes the water. Loki does not know where the droplets come from. In fact, he does not know for certain what they are.

There are times this lack of certainty bothers him. Now is not one of them. Tonight, the water’s call is strong. He is glad to be here.

He sniffs the air around him. The cave is (as usual) dank and cool and smelling faintly of rot. Beyond the stink of his own anxiousness, nothing hints at the presence of anything living. Good. Were he more confident that no one could stumble upon him (not that anyone ever has, but _hasn’t_ doesn’t mean _won’t_ and being caught here of all places would be especially difficult to explain), Loki wouldn’t bother wasting the energy to cast. He has long since found that nothing lives in the darkness; there’s no need to push mysterious dwellers deep into their cracks.

Alas, he is not confident in his solitude. If anything he feels less safe tonight than usual. Loki sighs; he crouches down and sets a careful web of spells at the cave’s entrance, taking the time to weave each one properly. 

The whole thing takes longer than expected. By the time he finishes the pull of the pool is almost painful. Slowly and carefully, trying not to make noise, Loki straightens back up and then stretches. He has only been here since shortly past sunset, when the _draw_ of the cave increased to a point where he could no longer simply ignore it. He is already surprisingly tired.

Power ebbs and flows the darkness. It is strongest near the water, Loki has found – no longer at liberty to spend his time out in the world as he might like, he has had plenty of time to explore – but still present at the farthest reaches of the cave. It is a wild power, a strange, old magic like nothing else he has encountered in all his journeys upon the tree. It is that power more than his own that alerts him: _Thor_.

His not-brother is coming. Loki can feel it in every pore, every muscle, every sinew.

Perfect. There are many games in the universe, and this one he can play. In fact, it has been far too long since he was last granted the chance. He has been alone for what feels like forever, and then some. Loki has no intention of missing this opportunity.

~

Some time later, it’s become painfully clear that Loki is not quite done with his waiting. His not-brother is still on Midgard; Thor has lingered far longer than expected at the edge of Midgard's pool.

If he dips a finger in the water, gritting his teeth against the burn, Loki is able to catch bits and pieces of his bro- his not-brother's conversation; something about risks and costs and consumption and _life_.

His not-brother means to enter the water, then. Fortuitously, he too is ready.

Loki strips with practiced efficiency. The window of opportunity will be narrow, and missing it means at best a very unpleasant evening. He balances carefully on the balls of his feet with the tips of his toes just touching the water. The pain is intense; it’s almost unbearable, as if his flesh is being boiled away. The agony is just an illusion, though – this, too, he knows - and if everything works his gain will be well worth it.

He has the cap off the flask already. The water laps at his feet, burning. "It is for me," he (feels more than) hears Thor say.

It’s time.

"The thing I fear contains the thing I need," Loki says in the old tongue, loudly and clearly. He knocks back the flask's contents in one gulp and tosses the small bottle aside. "One, two," he counts - softly, and in his own language – waiting until he feels the cold rushing through his veins.

On “three,” he dives.

Down, down Loki goes. Time drags; his fall begins to feel endless. He is fast running out of air, and even his seidr cannot save him down here. But as he is starting to panic in earnest, to wonder if he has made a colossal mistake, he finally feels Thor's fingers brush his own. Loki grabs hold with all the strength he has left and lets his _brother's _momentum carry them home.__

__~_ _

__At first they are incapable of anything much beyond coughing and flopping around and gasping raggedly for air. The potion is meant for a longer journey. Much longer. Before long Loki feels it still singing in his body as he writhes and pants. From the way his brother thrashes about beside him he can only surmise Thor feels the same._ _

__In fact, he is counting on it._ _

__Thor is the stronger, Loki the better prepared. The two of them struggle to sitting one right after the other. They face each other unseeing, chests heaving and water streaming down their torsos. Loki can feel it pool briefly beneath his buttocks before it starts its journey back to the pool._ _

__It’s not enough. He needs to _see_. He conjures the dimmest witchlight imaginable; after absolute darkness even that leaves both of them blinking at the glare._ _

__As their eyes adjust Loki cannot quite hold back a gasp. Thor is _beautiful_ , wild and proud, battle-lust blazing in his eyes. Beautiful, and furious. "This is a foul trick, brother," he snarls._ _

__That will hurt, in time. Right now Loki does not let it. "No," he disagrees. "It is a dream."_ _

__Something in Thor's expression briefly softens, only to sharpen in a new and even lovelier way. "A dream," he breathes. "Then I can shape it to my liking, can I not?"_ _

__Loki smiles. He lets go of Thor's fingers and rests his own delicately on the broad, sloping plane of his brother's breast. "Of course you can," he says, grinning broadly at the tiny shiver that runs through Thor's body. "I am yours, brother, to make of whatever you see fit."_ _

__~_ _

__They are still drunk on the Norns' elixir. The rough press of his brother's lips on his own sends a powerful wave of lust racing through Loki’s body, head to toes and then back up to settle hot and heavy at the base of his spine. Thor's hands spark along his skin like static, like miniature lightning. Loki lets his mouth fall open to the insistent press of his brother's tongue. He whimpers as Thor's teeth close on his bottom lip and break the skin._ _

__They are warriors first and last. The scent and taste of blood has always spurred them on, even when they are cold sober. And while he has heard a day may come when it does no longer, Loki privately finds that impossible to imagine. Regardless, today is not that day. Thor's erection is already digging, hot and insistent and dripping wet, into the meat of Loki's thigh._ _

__Their bodies are slick with sweat and water. Loki finds he can neither reach nor summon his oil. It is no matter. The burning pain - and the cry it forces from him, the cry Thor swallows down with desperate hunger - only serves to drive them on._ _

__Beneath them the cave’s stone floor is hard and unforgiving. Loki feels each and every one of his vertebrae grind against it as his brother slams into him, over and over. With each snap of his hips Thor brands his _presence_ and his power into the thin skin of Loki's back. The smell of blood grows stronger and stronger, mixing with the heady musk of _sex_ and driving the stink of the pool from Loki's nostrils. He forgets himself for a moment and lets his own nails drag down Thor's rippling, muscled back. Let the mortals talk of _that_. Thor bites into his shoulder, and Loki is wholly consumed. In every sense, he gives everything he has fully over to his brother._ _

__Neither of them manages to last long; they don’t even try. It has, after all, been _forever_. Thor's rhythm stutters and stalls out. The heat of his brother's semen pooled deep within him joins with the force of his own orgasm to tear a broken scream from Loki's swollen lips._ _

__It is done._ _

__Well done._ _

__For a time, the two of them are once again are reduced to lying limp and gasping._ _

__~_ _

__Rejection hurts too much. Loki refuses to suffer it. "Up, you oaf," he huffs, shoving weakly at his brother's shoulders. "You doubtless have a mission waiting for you. It is time to head back to the land of the living and fulfill it." He gathers all his remaining strength and rolls them both, dumping Thor unceremoniously at the pool's edge. "You cannot dream forever," Loki hisses as he struggles to his feet. "Now. Go!"_ _

__He steadfastly ignores both the tears burning at the backs of his eyes and the hot, thick spend trailing down the inside of his legs._ _

__Thor rises, heavily. Loki takes one long last look at his brother's cock, curled soft and slick against one powerful thigh. He exhales, carefully. When he drags his eyes back to his brother's face, Thor's expression is just as soft. Sentimental._ _

__"You are right, of course." Thor turns to face the pool, looking back over one shoulder and smiling. "Thank you for being the best part of my dream, brother. Know that I will always love you."_ _

__And with that Thor is gone, his massive body slipping beneath the surface with hardly a splash._ _

__~_ _

__Loki lingers long after the last ripples smooth out to flat emptiness. He says nothing and does nothing. Only when the last of the potion leaves him does he let the light go out and then drop heavily to his hands and knees._ _

__Head hanging and body trembling, Loki sobs until he has no more tears to give._ _

__The water claims them all._ _


End file.
